


i found

by donniedarko



Category: Drarry - Fandom, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, One Shot, based on a prmopt, this is such a mess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-06
Updated: 2018-10-06
Packaged: 2019-07-25 20:00:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16204631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/donniedarko/pseuds/donniedarko
Summary: based on the prompt "i thought you were dead."





	i found

**Author's Note:**

> hehe here u go yasmin :-)

Draco hated Potter. He hated him with every inch of his being.

 

But he hated him because he cared about him. It took less than three years for Draco to realize that his jealousy wasn’t just about Potter’s fame. It was about his friends, too. He was jealous that he wasn’t one of them. That he wasn’t the one making Harry laugh or smile, that he didn’t share any inside jokes with him. And then he realized that he craved his attention. And sure, it was normal to want to get a reaction out of someone you dislike, but not as often as Draco, and no one went as far as he did for just some school rival. Really, he made badges. _ Badges _ . 

 

He realized his feelings again when he was asked to identify him at the Manor. It was obviously him, he would never leave the sides of his trusted golden companions. Not even to save his own skin.

 

And then Potter saved him from the fire. Stupid, bloody, heroic Potter. He wanted to punch him. He wanted to kiss him. But instead of even thanking him, he ran. He was too scared to face him, too scared of what he’d do or say.

 

None of that mattered anymore, though. Because Potter was dead. Potter was dead and so was any chance he had to fix things between them. To at least become friends. Potter was dead and he couldn’t stop clenching and unclenching his jaw or fists. He tried his best to hold back the angry tears. 

 

He blocked out most of Voldemort’s speech. The words “Harry Potter is dead!” rang through his head like an explosion that he got too close to.

 

When the time came, he walked numbly over to his mother and father. He grabbed his mothers hand, refusing to even acknowledge Lucius. He couldn’t stand the sight of him. He made Draco who he was and Draco couldn’t tell who he hated more; his father for doing that to him, or himself for being so stupid as to follow his lead. 

 

Harry Potter is dead and Draco Malfoy chose right now to realize that he was quite possibly in love with him. 

 

He couldn’t help the hysterical giggle that erupted from him as he realized that Potter died hating him. And that even if he had lived he’d probably never forgive Draco for the things he’d done. 

 

“Draco, dear, what’s wrong?” His mother’s soothing voice asked quietly in his ear. Draco shook his head and wiped the stray tear from his eye.

 

Then there were gasps, and a scream and Draco looked up and  _ he’s going to fucking kill Harry Potter himself, damn it.  _ His parents moved to run and Draco was forced to follow. He didn’t stop looking back at Potter. At Harry.

 

-

 

Hours had passed and Draco hadn’t sat still for even a minute. 

 

“I have to go back,” he said suddenly, bolting up and grabbing his coat.

 

“Draco- no, what are you doing?” His father hissed, gripping his arm as he moved towards the door.

 

“Those were my classmates, father. Innocent people and I can’t- did you see the looks on their faces? The loss? We did that to them. I know you can live with that feeling but I can’t.” Draco was nearing tears again, how,  _ why,  _ did he ever let himself do any of this? The war was a gut wrenching, horrible eye opener. And Draco decided now was as good a time as any to fix whatever he could.

 

“Don’t be a fool, Draco.” Lucius said coldly.

 

Draco turned away from him and faced his mother. “I’m leaving now.”

 

And with that he was gone.

 

-

 

The school was destroyed. The once beautiful structure was now a pile of rubble and dust. Clouds of smoke hovered hauntingly above it. It looked like hell. It felt like hell.

 

He passed groups of people mourning, shooting glares at him as he walked by. He instinctively grabbed at his forearm- his mark- and lowered his head in shame.

 

Draco found Harry sitting by himself in an empty corridor. He was tossing broken chunks of the walls into a growing pile in front of him. 

 

“Potter,” he said to get his attention. Harry looked up and scoffed. 

 

“What, Malfoy? Come to boast about how much damage you and your Death Eater friends caused?”

 

“No,” Draco replied, voice small, “I- I want to apologize.”

 

“Bit too late for that now, isn’t it?” Harry’s voice was cold. Draco couldn’t blame him.

 

“I thought you were dead,” Draco said suddenly.

 

Harry smiled bitterly. “Thought I was dead, too.”

 

“Listen, or don’t, whatever you want, I understand,” Draco took a deep breath, “I did a horrible thing. Everyone- my family, their 'friends', we all did horrible things. And I know admitting it isn’t going to fix anything, and I know that things wouldn’t have been much different even if I hadn’t been like this, but I’m sorry. To see these people, innocent people, suffer, to mourn  _ children,  _ this entire thing has made me realize that I am a horrible person. I realized it as soon as I got the mark,” he stopped and laughed, “I didn’t even want the bloody thing. If I didn’t take it, he would’ve killed us all, my family- but that’s besides the point. I don’t expect forgiveness and I’m not here to ask for it. I’m here to say that I regret everything, even the small things I did in our earlier years. I’m  _ sorry.”  _

 

Harry didn’t respond immediately. 

 

Draco shifted uncomfortably. “Look, I’ll leave if you want-”

 

“Don’t,” Harry cut him off. “I don’t forgive you, Malfoy. But thank you.”

 

Draco nodded. “Can- Merlin this is going to sound ridiculous- can we try to mend things between us?”

 

Harry looked him in the eye. “It’s a start,” he said, standing up, “but it’ll be a slow mend.”

 

“Of course.”

 

Harry reached out his hand to shake Draco’s and Draco thought he could  _ fucking cry.  _

 

-

 

_**6 months later** _

  
  


It took Harry approximately two months to realize he had feelings for Draco. It took him another two months to admit that to himself. And here he was, two months after  _ that _ and he just now decided to do something about it. 

 

He realized that when he saw Draco throw his head back when he laughed and he got this weird feeling in his chest that maybe, something was going on here. He realized it the first time he saw Draco’s smile, his  _ real _ smile, and he had to take a moment to admire just how beautiful he was. He wasn’t all sharp and pointy. He was soft and gentle. He had  _ changed. _

 

He realized all those times Draco got him all worked up over anything, all those times he was so obsessed with what Draco might think or what Draco might do. He realized that maybe, he took the whole stalking Draco thing in sixth year too far. Who cares that much about someone they don’t like?

 

And now here he was, having no clue how to bring this up to Ron and Hermione. Hermione would take it much better, her and Draco had actually formed somewhat of a good friendship. They had more similarities than they would’ve ever thought possible. Ron, however. Ron still hated Draco, though it was more quiet now than before.

 

All in all, Harry was screwed. 

 

-

 

It happened in Harry’s living room at two in the morning. 

 

Draco had brought a bottle of wine and chinese takeout and they sat as Harry showed him another muggle movie. He’d started a tradition after learning Draco had never seen one, and now every time they hung out at Harry’s, they’d watch a new one. 

 

Draco’s cheeks were pink but his hair was still perfectly in place. Harry admired it.

 

“You’re so pretty,” he said absentmindedly. 

 

“What?” Draco giggled.

 

“Pretty. You. Your hair, your face.” 

 

Draco’s cheeks turned even redder. “Oh?”

 

“Oh,” Harry agreed smiling.

 

“Prat,” Draco rolled his eyes. 

 

Harry stuck his tongue out at him and grabbed some more orange chicken.

 

“You are, though. I’d kiss you if you liked me back,” and it was such a juvenile thing to say, ‘liked me back’, but Harry couldn’t really think that well. 

 

“Is that so?” Draco quirked one of his eyebrows, smirking, the alcohol giving him the confidence he needed.

 

“Mhm,” Harry nodded, taking a bite of his food.

 

“Guess you have to kiss me, then.”

 

Harry stopped, looked up at Draco, then went “What?" with this stupid puppy dog expression on his face. Draco found it endearing. 

 

“Kiss me, you idiot,” he said.

 

And Harry didn’t hesitate this time.

 

All those cliches where people talk about fireworks are bullshit. It was like a bomb. Harry’s chest was exploding, heartbeat in his ears, his hands touching every part of Draco they could reach and he felt  _ alive.  _

 

“Finally,” Draco breathed out when they parted.

 

“Yeah, finally,” Harry laughed.

  
  
  
  


It’s safe to say that things between them had been mended.


End file.
